Sometimes I Even Amaze Myself, the Remix
by Jedi Tess of Gryffindor
Summary: Ginny Weasley becomes the target of a Death Eater attack. Where could she possibly be safer than in the heart of Malfoy Manor, under the protection of Draco Malfoy and his mischievous older brother? A final foray into the best ship, D/G!
1. Prologue

Sometimes, I Even Amaze Myself (the remix)

By Jedi Tess of Gryffindor

**Summary**: Ginny Weasley becomes the target of a Death Eater attack. Where could she possibly be safer than in the heart of Malfoy Manor, under the protection of Draco Malfoy and his mischievous older brother? A final foray into the best ship, D/G!

**Timeline**: This is an AU, in the sense that Draco Malfoy doesn't really have a brother in the books, nor is there a Professor Jacqueline Pierce at Hogwarts. In all other ways, it follows canon through "Goblet of Fire."

**A/N: **This story was my second ever novel-length fic, first posted some time in 2002. Consequently, it was written during my formative teenage years. Since finishing it, I've finished a creative writing degree and am now in grad school. My writing has improved to the point where I can't bear the thought of this story being on my author page in the state it's been in for years.

So here's the revamp. I can promise it's a very different story from the original and feels much, much more like a piece I'm proud to call mine. Hope you all enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: Characters, canon plots, etc. are the property of J.K. Rowling. I am making no money from this work and intend it only for publication on , with no other intended distribution and absolutely no sales. Thanks, J.K., for giving amateur writers like myself a chance to frolic in a fabulous fictional world!

**~Chapter 1~**

_Can I ask you a question, please?_

_Promise you won't laugh at me?_

_Honestly, I'm standing here_

_Afraid I'll be betrayed_

_As twisted as it seems_

_I only fear love when it's in my dreams_

-Alana Grace_  
_

**)SOMETIMES(**

"Gods, boy, what is it now?"

Draco Malfoy scowled at his breakfast but didn't touch it. His father's question hovered in the air between them and the other occupants of the dining room. Draco often felt that Lucius Malfoy considered dealing with him to be like dealing with a dim and spoiled five-year-old. Draco had, admittedly, once been a dim and spoiled five-year-old, but that had been twelve years ago. He doubted his father appreciated the difference.

"Nothing's the matter, Father. I'm perfectly well," Draco lied, picking up his fork and knife and carving his sausages into precise pieces.

"Then, for Merlin's sake, stop moping about," Lucius snapped. "You've been in a state ever since you returned home for the holidays and we've got to put up with you for two more weeks."

_No you don't_, Draco thought, carefully chewing each bit of sausage ten times before swallowing. _You can sod off with your associates and leave mother here to deal with me. I'm just your son._ He didn't dare say this aloud. He chose life.

"Give him a break, Dad." The voice came from further up the table. "He's probably just wishing he'd done better on midterms - right, Draco?"

Draco glanced up at his twenty-four year old brother, Aden, and his expression darkened. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the effort Aden made to wedge himself between Draco and their father's verbal bashing.

_It's that the sun shines out his bum, as far as the elderly lot are concerned_, Draco thought crossly and not for the first time, hating his stupid parents.

"Aden, darling, don't contradict your father." Narcissa Malfoy smiled at Aden and tucked into her poached egg. "Draco has been behaving dreadfully since he returned from school."

Draco bit back a snort. His parents' idea of dreadful behavior was anything Draco did, as far as he could tell. Aden, next in line to the Malfoy fortune, could more or less say or do whatever he wanted and it was 'well done, old boy!' as far as both their parents were concerned.

"Well, I'm off," Draco's perfect brother said, pushing his chair back and tossing his napkin onto the table. "Tea this afternoon, Mother?"

"Of course, my darling," she said affectionately, as he stooped to kiss her cheek. "Come find me in the south parlor when you're ready."

"Cheer up, little brother. Not everyone can be practically perfect in every way," Aden said to Draco, ruffling his hair in passing. Draco hissed under his breath. He hid the hiss behind his teacup and tried to decide where Aden wanted to meet him. Hair ruffling was usually code for '_meet me in my room_' but occasionally Aden fancied a kip in the east wing library. In the meantime, Draco had to wait to be excused until his parents were done bothering him about whatever popped into their heads.

Sure enough, as soon as the door closed behind Aden, Narcissa started in properly on Draco.

"Really, darling, what's the matter with you?" she asked, looking down the table at him. It wasn't a question of active concern, but rather, of annoyance. Draco's duty when at home was to be polite to his parents and politer to their frequent evening guests. Whatever problems he might be having, unless they were school-related, were hardly of concern to either of his parents. So long as he upheld the mighty Malfoy honor, blah, blah, blah …

"I assure you, I'm quite well," he told his mother, finishing his sausage. "Aden's right," he added, shamelessly capitalizing on his brother's popularity. "I'm unhappy because I don't think I'll come top at midterms."

"I certainly hope the Mudblood doesn't beat you again." Lucius' cold voice jumped right to what would have been bothering Draco if it had occurred to him Granger might beat him gain. Great – something else to worry about.

"I have some guests coming tonight," Lucius went on, watching Draco through narrowed eyes, "and I do not wish to trouble them with your bad attitude. I find it callus enough myself. I expect you to spend your day indoors, studying. This evening, you're to appear in the entrance hall in formal wear to greet my guests. You're excused from the table."

Draco stood, trying to keep his impatience to be gone off his face. "Good morning, Mother. Father."

"Try to be more cheerful this evening, Draco," his mother called after him, her tone that of a weary woman who tried her best. "Your father and I are engaged for the rest of the day, so see to it that you prepare for our guests tonight at a proper hour."

In other words, Draco was expected to show these guests what being associated with a Malfoy meant. Oh, goody. "Of course," he acknowledged over his shoulder, biting his tongue against sarcastic backlash. "I want to make a good impression."

"Oh, and see that your brother is told," Narcissa added as though he hadn't said anything. "This will be a most important evening for him."

Draco nodded and shoved through the dining room doors. He breathed a sigh of relief when the doors were safely shut behind him and he stood in the entrance hall, alone at last.

"Bollocks," he said as loudly as he dared. Pushing away from the doors, he crossed the hall and climbed the winding staircase to the second floor. Aden wasn't in his room, so Draco headed for the east wing library. Filled almost entirely with fiction for Narcissa's amusement, Lucius rarely – if ever – turned up there.

Draco pushed open the oak doors and wound his way through the towering bookshelves to the back wall of the library. Two rope hammocks hung from the ceiling, hidden from immediate view by several cleverly rearranged bookcases. Draco and Aden met there to talk without fear of being overheard. Not even house-elves interrupted them there.

Draco found his brother stretched out in one of the hammocks, facing a large window that overlooked the rolling hills, woods, and mountains of the countryside surrounding Malfoy Manor. Aden's eyes rested on the morning fog covering the normally spectacular view.

"What's on your mind?" he asked as Draco threw himself into the other hammock.

"Father is throwing a Death Eater bash tonight – or something like," Draco answered evasively, propping his arm under his head and staring into the rising mist that glittered with sunlight.

"You didn't answer my question," Aden pointed out.

"I'm worried," Draco snapped. He didn't say '_about you' _but it was implied. Outright admissions of affection made Draco cross.

"That's not what's making you strop around," Aden told him, finally turning a piercing, blue-eyed gaze on him. "Either tell me what's on your mind or sod off somewhere else for the rest of the holiday."

"_You_ sod off," the youngest Malfoy muttered, sulking. After a moment, he glanced at his brother. "Anyway, you'd never let me hear the end of it if I did tell you."

"What _haven't_ you told me, Draco? When have you ever kept a secret?" Aden demanded, rolling his eyes. "You're always so bleeding worried I'll take the piss and I never do."

"Do, too," Draco muttered. "What about last year, with the bloke in that place with the thing I bought?"

Aden snorted. "Yeah, that was wicked funny, though."

"Shut up," Draco muttered. "Anyway," he added. "Maybe I just came up here to warn you about the do tonight. I think Father means business this time. One of these parties will turn out to be the big one and you'll get the Mark."

"Let Father plan for whatever he bloody wants," Aden retorted. "I'm his heir and I've been trained my whole life to be a damned good one. Bastard worked too hard on me to cast me off because of some stupid tattoo I won't get. All I have to do is hope he dies in time for me to inherit the estate and put our family's money to better use than funding an outdated 'lord of darkness' or whatever. Until You-Know-Who gets his act together and turns up again, no one can force me to do anything."

"He could disown you – cut you out of the will," Draco suggested. "Father, I mean, not You-Know-Who."

"No kidding – although You-Know-Who probably has ways of 'disowning' me as well," Aden said, with a grim smile. "But like I said about Father, I'm the best bloke to take over from him and he knows it. No offense, mate, but you just aren't up to Lucius' par. Not that I'd want you to be. You're way too good for this lot. Anyway, _I'm_ the perfect Malfoy heir; ridiculously good looking, charmingly witty –"

"Modest, as well," Draco pointed out, almost smiling. Then he frowned, watching the fog lift slowly and dissolve in patches as the grounds warmed up. "You know, you've got it really good sometimes," he told his brother. "All you have to do is marry some rich girl and inherit a fortune. Father wouldn't even notice if you married a Muggle. He's totally blind to your faults – if you have any."

"Sack the self-pity parade, yeah?" Aden said, amused. "Like you said, it's all well and good till the Dark Lord turns up and kicks the old man's sorry arse for being blind, deaf, and ugly. When that happens, and you're right, it probably will, I'll have a right sidemore to worry about than you, won't I?"

"I guess," Draco conceded, giving his brother another small smile.

"Right, quit changing the subject, prat," Aden said, nudging Draco's hammock with his foot. "What's on your mind?"

"Girls." Draco spat out the word.

"Uh-huh," Aden said, tapping his chin and staring at Draco. Draco shifted uncomfortably. "You fancy someone."

"She's pretty."

"Right. Blindingly seductive, your excuse for three cold showers a day. You can't keep your eyes off her."

"She's a redhead."

"A Weasely?" Aden glanced sideways with sudden interest.

"Damn you." Draco felt his cheeks warm and glared even harder at lifting fog.

"Don't blame me." Aden shrugged. "Most redheads are Weaselys. This generation only has one daughter, right?"

"Actually, I quite fancy their mum," Draco said, smirking. "I like fat women."

Aden snorted. "Contrary bugger. Answer the question."

"One daughter, fortunately," Draco muttered. "Ginevra. Makes her sound ninety and infirm, doesn't it?"

"Let me guess," Aden said slowly. "Innocent, noble Gryffindor type?" Though not a Hogwarts graduate himself, Aden heard enough from his brother about Quidditch to know the Houses by name and reputation.

"In one."

"You sure know how to pick 'em." Aden shook his head. "Aren't there any decent girls in Slytherin anymore?"

"Not really, and, oy, I didn't _ask_ for this!" Draco snapped. "Hell, I wouldn't choose to be interested in a girl from a family of blood traitors. Do I _look_ suicidal? What the hell would Father say?" He shuddered. Say, nothing. What would father do to Draco with _Crucio_?

"Well, a pretty girl's a pretty girl, mate," Aden pointed out, apparently unconcerned that Draco might be tortured to death for fancying a Weasley. "What're you going to do?"

"I don't know," Draco grumbled. "Ignore her. Kill her. Shag her, maybe."

"Tried any of those yet?"

"Nope."

"Well, get busy, then," Aden said. "Who cares about her family, right? If you fancy her, tell her. It'll be a lark for you, having a girlfriend on the sly. Just don't pull a Romeo/Juliet if the old man or her dad ever find out, yeah? I'll make sure no one kills you. I like having you around."

"Pull a who and a who?"

"You have got to take Muggle Studies, Draco," Aden said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, right, Muggle Studies," Draco said brightly, bouncing in his hammock. "The answer to all my problems lies in ek-leck-tricity, I'm sure. Thanks so much for your ingenious plan."

"You were expecting one?" his brother retorted. "What am I, your agony aunt? All I can do is give you angles. I can't run your life." He gave Draco an unimpressed look. "And you know my angle has nothing to do with Muggle bleeding Studies, so sod off."

"I know, I know, keep your face on." Draco liked Aden a lot but liked him a lot less when he chose to hex Draco into oblivion. It had only happened once and Draco never, ever wanted it to happen again. "I was hoping for more specific advice."

"Okay." Aden stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. "What kind of cupboards does Hogwarts have?"

"Big ones," Draco said, grinning in spite of himself.

"Right. Get a fancy dinner, get her flowers, and make sure there's a large sofa in."

"Shag her … on a sofa … in a closet?"

"Or on the table, your choice. Why the hell not?"

"I can't believe I'm saying this – your Muggle Studies plan was better."

"Sod right off, Romeo." Aden's next shove almost toppled Draco's hammock. "Fine, don't shag her. Have a romantic snog or something. Suits me, either way. Just get her out of your system, right?"

Draco frowned. A careless, moment-by-moment relationship would have been his idea of a good time when dealing with, say, Pansy Parkinson, but it didn't feel right with Ginny. Not that it mattered, he reflected. She didn't know how he felt about her and if she did, she would probably cause him physical damage. Her entire family was mad, after all. And bloody violent.

Aden spotted the pause.

"Ah, not the easy sort?" he nodded knowingly. "Bad luck, mate. Usually, we Malfoys can pretend not to have feelings. Makes blowing off women much easier."

"I wish," Draco muttered, staring at the ceiling. Again, with Pansy or any of the other Slytherin girls, it wouldn't have been an issue. They liked a good time. Ginny, though …

"Never mind, Drake," Aden said kindly. "The fact that you recognize that you actually have feelings that flow in the direction of your brain is good news to me." Draco wasn't sure whether to be offended or not. "What do you want with Weasley, exactly?" Aden asked.

"Dunno. I can't stop thinking about her," Draco said darkly, after a moment's hesitation. "I see her - I stare. I hear her laugh - I can't sleep. I'm within fifty meters of her - we fight to the death." Aden's eyebrows rose. "All right, to the attempted disembowelment, then," Draco amended.

"You've really got it bad, haven't you?" Aden asked, staring hard at him. Draco fidgeted. When he didn't say anything, Aden said, "You in love with her?"

Draco would have choked had he been eating. Before he could say anything, for instance assure his brother that he was insane and _who falls in love when they're seventeen, honestly, and never mind that we're talking about falling in love with a _Weasley, Aden spoke again.

"I've got to run, kid." He was looking at his pocket watch, where a thin gold hand pointed to the words "You're late." He got up and started to leave. Draco opened his mouth to say something – any possible denial he could think of – but closed it again, still too shocked at the idea to be able to form any argument against it.

Halfway to the door, Aden paused, turning back. "You kissed her yet?" he asked, his eyes unreadable.

"Of course not! She'd probably bite my tongue off," Draco said blankly. Not that snogging her hadn't crossed his mind …

"Try and see what happens. You'd be amazed. Well, cheers." With a parting grin, Aden disappeared into the bookshelves. A moment later, Draco heard the doors of the library creak open and close with a gentle click.

He licked his lips, twitchy and irritable as he lay in his hammock. _In love_? The idea of being _in love_ with Ginevra Weasley was absurd! First of all, Draco didn't _do_ love. He wasn't even really sure he knew what the word meant, although he hadn't met anyone his age who did. Anyone could look up the definition in a dictionary, but the trite answers there never seemed to hold up in practice. What did it actually mean to be _in love_?

Draco couldn't believe he was thinking about it. Bloody Aden! He knew better than to let his brother to psychoanalyze him, which was what usually happened when Draco complained to his brother about anything from girls to Quidditch to their father. Aden had an uncanny knack for _knowing_ Draco's mind, which, for someone as self-contained and independent as Draco fancied himself to be, was extremely annoying. Aden could also pull secrets from Draco that Draco originally had no intention of sharing.

The youngest Malfoy often wondered what made his brother so sure what was right, what was wrong, and what he, Aden, wanted. He'd never been interested in dark lords or dark arts, even when Lucius tutored him by the hour together and Igor Karkaroff, Durmstrang's former headmaster, had taken Aden as a favorite.

"What I want," Aden had once told Draco, "is the chance to decide for myself what I want."

Until then, the idea of not having a choice had never really occurred to Draco. Perhaps it was because he wasn't the Malfoy heir, but he had always drifted through life and school, letting his father's direction and expectations carry him along. Unlike Aden, he didn't have a clear understanding of his own opinion of dark lords and dark arts. He respected his brother's convictions, but wasn't sure he shared them. Although fairly sure that he didn't especially want to serve a Dark Lord and give his life over to someone else, he had essentially been raised to believe that that was his destiny. How did you fight your destiny?

Aden did. Draco wished he knew how. And why.

With a groan, he rubbed a hand over his face and sat up. His family was right. He'd been in a state or a strop or whatever since he had been home for the Christmas holidays. Yeah, he had a lot on his mind: his destiny, Ginny, his worries about his brother, Ginny, his holiday homework, Ginny, avoiding his father as much as possible, and Ginny.

In love? Draco? Honestly!

**)SOMETIMES(**

**TBC**


	2. The Social Call

**Timeline (reminder)**: This is an AU, in the sense that Draco Malfoy doesn't really have a brother in the books, nor is there a Professor Jacqueline Pierce at Hogwarts. In all other ways, it follows canon through "Goblet of Fire."

**A/N: **I had a USB drive issue which erased a bunch of half-finished updated chapters I'd been working on for months *sob*, which is why this update was so long in coming. I apologize and I'm back on the bandwagon. Updates should be reasonably back-to-back.

**Disclaimer**: Characters, canon plots, etc. are the property of J.K. Rowling. I am making no money from this work and intend it only for publication on, with no other intended distribution and absolutely no sales. Thanks, J.K., for giving amateur writers like myself a chance to frolic in a fabulous fictional world!

**~Chapter 2~**

_I'll be watching you  
Oh, can't you see  
You belong to me?  
How my poor heart aches  
With every step you take  
Every move you make_

**)SOMETIMES(**

In Draco's case, home for the Christmas holidays meant spending most of his day in his room, doing schoolwork. He sometimes pretended he was back at Hogwarts, away from the Manor and his father. He'd never seriously considered transferring to Durmstrang, whatever he might said in a loud voice whenever Potter was nearby. Seven years at Hogwarts had made the school a home to Draco.

Most days, he could get away with seeing his parents only once or twice, for meals. This particularly evening was different, though Draco had forgotten until his father's house-elf appeared at his door with an order for Draco to appear in the ballroom immediately. Draco caught a look at himself in the mirror on his wardrobe – his hair stood on end from running his hand through it while he sorted out his Ancient Runes homework, his robes were rumpled from hours of hunching over his desk, and he hadn't shaved in three days. Damn.

"I'll be down as soon as I can," Draco snapped at the waiting elf. The elf, who had helped bring Draco up, knew signs of temper when he saw them and fled the room.

Stretching and sighing loudly, Draco headed for his wardrobe. When he had been younger, he had spent hours amusing himself by tormenting the twenty or so house-elves in his father's ownership. Now, though, Draco didn't have to spirit for it. It felt like wizard marbles without the blood. What was the use in ordering house-elves about when they _enjoyed_ being slaves? He grinned suddenly at the thought of the look on Granger's face if he said that to her; something to look forward to when he got back to school.

He shoved his wardrobe open, good humor vanishing as he stared into it. A moment later, he saw the bedroom door burst open in the reflection of the wardrobe mirror.

"Darling, do hurry. We mustn't keep your father waiting." Narcissa frowned at him. "Draco, I know at that school you're allowed to dress like a commoner, but would it hurt you to brush your hair or shave occasionally while you're in my home?"

Narcissa swept into the wardrobe ahead of Draco and began to shift through his robes, her brow arched.

"You look lovely, Mother," Draco commented. She wore navy blue dress robes, her pale hair wound up in dark ribbons atop her head.

"Oh, we do need to get more dress robes fitted for you," she murmured, ignoring him as she stared into the abyss of robes. "You simply have no variety. We'll have Madam Malkin in after the holidays."

Draco stood back and watched her, knowing that reminding her he was there would only annoy her.

"These will do," she said at last, pulling out a set of black dress robes and pointing her wand at him. Suddenly, the dress robes were on and his hair was plastered to his head.

"Mother," he began grouchily.

"Hmm. Darling, is it just me or do you have a strangely shaped head?"

"Mother!"

"Never mind, it can't be helped," she went on, blithely ignoring him some more and waving her wand again. He reached out tentatively to feel whatever she'd done, but she swatted his hand away with her wand tip.

"Enough dawdling in your wardrobe, Draco, your father is waiting," she said, sweeping out of the room. Draco mouthed several silent obscenities and followed in her wake.

They stopped outside the ballroom to straighten their robes and hair in the entrance hall mirror. Narcissa nodded and the ballroom doors swung open, enchanted to recognize when one of their owners wished them to.

Draco caught sight of his brother right away. Aden stood with Lucius in the center of the room. To everyone else, he looked relaxed and easy, smiling graciously at mothers and daughters and laughing with Lucius's Ministry associates. Draco knew he was the only one seeing the tense line of Aden's shoulders, the compulsive fingering of his Malfoy crest ring, the occasional shift from foot to foot. As Draco had predicted, this party was meant to bring Aden a step further into the fold, closer to the powerful Inner Circle and the dark lord who controlled it.

"Ah, there you are, darling!" Lucius smiled at his wife and managed to avoid smiling at Draco. Bloody typical. "I despaired of seeing either of you."

"I'm so sorry," Narcissa said, her blinding white smile charming every guest within view of it. "A little matter with the servants, that's all. I saw to it."

No such excuse to be had for Draco, then.

"And I expect you were at your homework again, Draco?" Lucius surprised him by asking in tone that told only Draco's immediate family that Draco would meet a sticky end if he denied anything.

"Of course, sir," Draco said, perversely pleased it wasn't a lie.

"Staying top of your class again this year?" a man called Thicknesse asked. Draco vaguely remembered seeing him at a Ministry of Magic function a year or so back.

"Yes, sir," Draco said. "I hope to stay there."

"I'm afraid Draco's visit with us this evening will be brief," Lucius said with one of his slick smiles. "He'll be retiring early to continue his work."

"Yes, sir," Draco said, swallowing an exhalation of relief. The sooner he escaped, the better! He knew the looks of the mothers standing nearby and the looks of Lucius's associates. To them, the youngest Malfoy was a commodity, only as valuable as his father's connections, his top marks, and his money made him.

"I hope you won't be robbing us of the company of both your charming sons this evening, Lucius," Magnolia Greengrass said with a coy smile.

"Certainly not," Lucius said, clapping a hand on Aden's shoulder. Draco bit down very hard on his lip and excused himself to say hi to his friends from school.

"Have fun, dear," Draco simpered in an undertone to his brother in passing.

"I'll kill you later," Aden said through a smile that made his jaw tick.

Draco was especially pleased to be allowed an early escape when he discovered that Clarissa Nott and Daphne Greengrass were among the guests. It wasn't that there weren't decent girls in Slytherin, although those two hardly qualified. It was that the clever, interesting girls made themselves invisible these days. Pansy Parkinson hadn't attended a political party with her parents in at least a year. Draco wasn't surprised to hear that his father's function tonight was no different. Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson told Draco, in response to his polite inquiry, that that their daughter had developed a bad case of pneumonia the evening before and sent her regrets to all her friends. Draco bit back a snort and sent wishes for her speedy recovery home with Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson. He pictured Pansy in her Marvin the Mad Muggle pajamas, eating her weight in chocolate and toasting her pigmy puff slippers by the fire.

He said a quick hello to Blaise Zabini and Teddy Nott, both of whom were furious that Draco was set free so quickly.

"And your brother?" Blaise asked in an undertone.

"You know this party is for him," Draco muttered, glancing across the room. "You know what's expected of him."

"He won't do it, though."

Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, Draco's best mates, slid into the circle. It was Greg who'd spoken.

"No, probably not," Draco agreed grimly. "Would you?"

"Watch anyone try and force Greg," Vince retorted, nudging his friend. Draco grinned, although he felt an ache in his gut. His four mates, all in seventh year with him, were eldest children. Were any of their fathers important enough that they might have sons forced to join the Inner Circle? There was no way to know.

"Couldn't Professor Snape do something?" Blaise said, his voice pitched low. "I mean, we know he's got some in with the Dark Lord. Couldn't he take Aden as a protégé or something?"

"Aden didn't go to Hogwarts, did he?" Draco pointed out. Not that he hadn't thought seriously about going to Snape for help. "Professor Snape hardly knows Aden, except through my father."

"So that's it, then?" Teddy asked, toying with his sleeve. "I mean, can you refuse the You-Know-What?" He rubbed his left forearm, chewing his lip.

What really scared Draco was that Aden would refuse the Mark, whether or not it was allowed. And he would be killed.

Draco glanced around at his friends. They weren't thinking only of Draco's brother; Draco knew that. "You know that when I find anything out, I'll tell you," he murmured. "Look, I have to go. I'll be in touch."

They nodded and watched him go. Draco could feel their eyes on his back, and their fear. He shared it, but not for himself.

Draco bid his family a hasty farewell and slipped up the winding marble staircase to his room. Once there, he changed hastily into more comfortable clothes, checked for lurking house-elves (after all, he was supposed to be doing homework), and left his room.

Aden told Draco everything he knew about the Inner Circle and whatever he could find out about the Dark Lord's activities or expectations. Anything Draco thought was useful, he passed around to his friends as best he could. All four of his year-mates were in danger and some of them had fifth and sixth year cousins who were in danger, too.

The only other way Draco could learn anything that might help his brother or friends was eavesdropping. As a result, he'd become a pro.

He descended the long staircase beyond the east wing library and then circled back around and passed back under the library. He paused before a stretch of bare wall. Glancing both ways to make sure no one was coming, he tapped the wall with his wand and whispered, "_Revelio_!"

The wall in front of him rippled and a tiny seam appeared. Draco pulled the seam apart and stepped into one of the Manor's many concealed broom cupboards. Draco grinned as he shut himself in. What would Lucius and Narcissa say if they knew their son knew about the cupboards and used them himself? It was a moot point, really, because if they ever found out they would kill him, stuff him, and display him in a glass case in the study as a warning to others.

"_Emaciato_," Draco mumbled, tapping the back wall of the cupboard. Suddenly, he could hear through the wall as though it were paper-thin. The noise of the party in the ballroom just behind the cupboard drifted through; first, just a murmur of indistinct voices; then, a resolution into two.

"I wouldn't concern yourself, dear," Magnolia Greengrass was saying. Draco never had any trouble recognizing her voice. "The man's a joke. He's more bluster than anything. Not even Cornelius Fudge was such a blind fool." If there was a woman in the world whom Draco disliked more than Daphne Greengrass, it was her overweight, overbearing mother. Still, more than any wife of any politician Draco had ever met, Mrs. Greengrass kept up with Ministry and Death Eater gossip.

"Oh, certainly, but one must take into account the recent uprising of Mudbloods against the Dark Lord," Geraldine Avery replied. Draco could hear her thin, long nose sticking straight into the air. "Rufus Scrimgeour supports their kind, you know, and actually gave that Mudblood lover a raise."

After several minutes of gossip about Rufus Scrimgeour, Fudge's successor as Minister for Magic, Draco began to wonder if he should find a new closet. He needed information that he could use. He was raising his wand to restore the wall when Mrs. Avery's voice caught his ear.

"I suppose you've heard about their plan to blackmail him?"

Draco turned back.

"Blackmail Arthur Weasley? I did hear a mention … do tell!" Mrs. Greengrass said.

"Well, it's a simple matter of playing to his kinds' weakness, isn't it?" Mrs. Avery said. "We all know that attacking his family is the easiest way to get to him."

Draco frowned. The Weasleys were considered blood traitors by many, but short of Draco's father's complaints about the Malfoy estate coming under increasing suspicion because of Arthur Weasley's involvement in certain areas of the Ministry, the family name didn't often come up among Lucius's associates. The man simply wasn't important enough within the Ministry to be worth targeting.

"Why the Weasleys?" Mrs. Greengrass asked Draco's question for him.

"Apparently, Arthur Weasley was recently promoted to head of the Office of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects," Mrs. Avery said. Draco strained to hear as she dropped her voice. "And whatever he's stirring up in his department is calling far too much attention to the sections of the Ministry that the Dark Lord is trying to manipulate in order to continue his anti-Mudblood campaign. The point is that Weasley is meddling where he shouldn't and must be stopped."

Draco didn't doubt Arthur Weasley's meddling for a minute. He knew enough about the Weasleys from their children to know how close they were to Dumbledore and how likely it was that Arthur Weasley was one of the many agents of the Order of the Phoenix. He was sure the Dark Lord knew it, too. Maybe what You-Know-Who really wanted was an example made of someone that the wizarding community would recognize. Someone who openly opposed him.

"So what does the Dark Lord mean to do about the man?" Mrs. Greengrass (and the eavesdropper three feet to her right) wanted to know.

"I'm not sure," Mrs. Avery admitted. "All I heard was that he planned to blackmail the family. Apparently, amid the gobs of children that Molly Weasley has churned out, there's a girl. I understand that Lucius used her once before to try and bring the Dark Lord back to life. Now it seems the Dark Lord has shown some interest in her again and wishes for her captivity. She is with her family for the holidays and the Inner Circle's top priority is to abduct her."

Draco froze. _Ginny_?

"I believe that awful Potter boy is quite attached to her as well," Mrs. Greengrass added with a sneer Draco could hear through the wall. "Perhaps the Dark Lord wishes to use her to lure Potter to him."

"And everyone will want her back," Mrs. Avery finished. "Leverage on Arthur Weasley and blackmail on Harry Potter." She chuckled. "Why do the blood traitors bother fighting, I wonder? Oh, by the way, I have prime tickets to Celestina Warbeck's winter concert – "

Draco sat frozen. Ginny was in danger. It made too much sense to be a fabrication. Ginny could be useful to the Dark Lord in so many ways: she was a lure for Potter and the Weasleys and probably even Albus Dumbledore. Draco had also heard rumors that the youngest Weasley had been involved in opening the Chamber of Secrets Draco's second year, though at the time he'd laughed at the idea. If it were true, though, You-Know-Who might have a permanent connection with Ginny as a result of whatever happened that year. Perhaps he needed her for something apart from blackmail.

Draco stepped back from the wall, muttering, "_Corpulentus_," as he went. He pushed the secret doorway open and wandered back to his room, not bothering to look for house-elves. Once locked into his room, he threw himself onto his bed and stared at the canopy for a long time, lost in thought. He could probably warn Dumbledore in time for him to do something to protect Ginny. He wouldn't have a prayer of convincing her family.

_Once upon a time, you wouldn't have given a damn about Weasleys_, he thought irritably. But the thought of a bunch of Death Eaters getting their hands on Ginny, the thought of the way they might treat her … If Draco were honest with himself, he wouldn't wish that lot on any girl. He scowled as he tried to categorize this protective feeling for Ginny with how he felt toward Pansy sometimes. It didn't work and he swore, punching his fist into a pillow.

Darkness had settled outside his bedroom windows when he finally heard Aden's footfalls down the corridor outside his room. "_Alabastus_," Draco called, pointing his wand at the door. It flew open and a strangled curse came from behind it.

"Maim me, why don't you?" Aden appeared in the doorway, rubbing his shoulder and glowering at Draco.

"I need to talk to you," Draco told him, sitting up and putting his face in his hands.

"Yeah, I got that when your door tried to break my face," Aden snapped but he pulled out Draco's desk chair and slumped into it. "What?"

"Did you hear anything about Ginny Weasley tonight?" Draco asked, peeking through his fingers at his brother.

"Funny, I did." Aden sharp eyes flicked over Draco, taking in his tousled hair and dusty robes. "They're planning to abduct her. In fact, they put Lucius in charge tonight. Lucius wants her taken when she visits Diagon Alley, a display of Death Eater power."

"Sod all," Draco groaned, bunching his duvet in his hands.

"That's not all I heard," Aden said. He joined Draco on the end of the bed and stretched out with a long sigh. He had dark circles under his eyes, worse than usual. "Although you might enjoy this more. You know Dad wants me to marry soon, to secure the entail of the Malfoy estate, which is only good if I'm married. Tradition rubbish, you know. Anyway, guess who your new sister-in-law might be if I don't find someone better, and soon?"

"Who?" Draco couldn't help being distracted by the subject change. Aden didn't talk much about the pressure he was under to marry and marry _well_. The Malfoy estate went to the eldest child, so long as that child was married and thus had the capacity to carry on the bloodline. The marriage also had to tie the name Malfoy to a _pure-blood _family, thus maintaining the magical bloodline.

"Pansy Parkinson," Aden muttered, his lip curling.

His younger brother gave a surprised laugh.

"You're not serious," he said. He wasn't sure who he pitied more, his brother or Pansy, but he knew that the idea of his brother marrying her both irritated and bothered him. "I thought they wanted _me_ to marry her. Everyone always assumes we're shagging or been set an arranged marriage or something."

"But what does her family gain if she marries _you?_" Aden countered, staring at the canopy with her fingers laced behind his head. "I'm the heir. I get the money and property and all that. Merlin, I'm fucked, aren't I?"

"Looks like," Draco grumbled. He glanced down at his brother. "And Pansy's my friend, so if you do marry her I suggest you be good to her."

"Cut me a break, Draco," Aden said in disgust. "I can't stand the twat. Anyway, she's – what – fifteen?"

"Almost eighteen," Draco corrected sharply. "Cut it out, Den. I know you're not happy, but –"

"What, you think because I don't like a girl I'd treat her badly?" Aden sent him a disgusted look.

"Right, I know," Draco said, looking away. "Can we not talk about Pansy right now because – "

"Yeah, yeah, you've got bigger problems," Aden said, waving a hand. "I forgot. It's all about Draco."

"Yeah, and I've got to do something for Ginny," Draco said with a herculean effort not to rise to the bait. "I can't leave her to the Dark Lord." He turned his head to look at his brother again. "I mean – god, Den, imagine an innocent girl in the hands of blokes like Avery and Uncle Adolphus." Or Aunt Bellatrix but Draco tried not to think about her.

"Point taken," Aden said. He gave Draco a small grin. "And being mad about her has nothing to do with you wanting to protect her, I'm sure." He frowned, deep in thought. "Warning _her_ wouldn't help," he said slowly. "She couldn't do anything. Dad knows what he's about. And no point in _you _warning her family. They'd never believe you." He lay for a moment in contemplative silence, and Draco let him think without interruption. Finally, Aden glanced up at him and Draco knew immediately that he wouldn't like what his brother had to say. "There's only one way to make sure that she'll be really safe."

"What?" Draco braced himself.

"_You _have to get to her first," Aden said.

"_What_?"

"The only way you'll know that she's safe is by putting yourself in a position to watch out for her. Or, rather, put her in a position to be watched."

"What are you suggesting?"

"Not a suggestion, kid." Aden eyed him grimly. "_You've_ got to bring her here yourself, before the Death Eaters find her."

"Are you _mad_?" Draco demanded. "I'd be playing right into Father's hands!"

"Not if you're clever," Aden insisted, dropping his voice and sitting up. "If she goes missing and the only people who know where she is are you, me, her father, and a Secret-Keeper, I reckon she could live right here in the house and no one would know. And if Dad goes looking for her, where's the last place he'll think to check?"

Draco blew out a long, careful breath. "His own house," he conceded.

"Thank me later." Aden grinned a little.

"So how do I do it?" Draco asked. "I would need someone _really_ on Weasley's side for Secret-Keeper, first of all …" He trailed off as the obvious answer came to him. He groaned. "I hate my life."

"You seem to have someone in mind," Aden prompted.

"Of course. Albus Dumbledore," Draco said quickly, just to get it over with. "He's barking mad, but I reckon the Weasleys trust him more than anyone else. He'd be an ideal Secret-Keeper. And he'd be able to explain everything to Ginny's mum and dad so they'd understand."

"Good enough," Aden agreed. "You should Owl him straight away. You can use Ares. That way Dad won't get suspicious. I'll get him."

They spent almost an hour composing a detailed letter to Dumbledore. There was a good deal of rewriting and revising before it sounded convincing enough to either of them. Even when it was complete, Draco had his doubts. He had never shown any respect for Dumbledore's rules and had, on many occasions, deliberately ignored his lectures about tolerance and "common decency." And now, here he was, asking the man to trust him with the life of a girl whose family he had made it his policy to persecute.

Not that Ron Weasley and good-for-nothing Potter didn't deserve it.

"Good as it gets." He signed his name and handed the quill to his brother.

"Read it back," Aden ordered after he'd signed his own name. He returned to his slouched seat on the desk with his back against the wall.

Draco cleared his throat.

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_My brother and I hope this letter finds you well. We have a matter of importance that needs your immediate attention. As you know, my father is closely connected with the Dark Lord's Inner Circle. My brother and I recently attended a gathering thrown by our father, and learned that plans are being made to blackmail Arthur Weasley. His daughter Ginevra is to be taken hostage. We don't know when but we think it will happen sometime during the Christmas holidays. We don't know what he'll do with Ginevra when he has her, but whatever it is, assume the worst. _

_We want to help protect Ginevra. We have a plan that we think will protect her temporarily. We won't say anymore now, but please contact us three days from today (the 7__th__ of December).We will be in Draco's room at Malfoy Manor in early evening._

_Thank you,_

_Draco and Aden Malfoy_

"That'll work." Aden nodded slowly. "Ares is really fast. He'll have the letter to Hogwarts in plenty of time for Dumbledore to contact you."

"Right." Draco reached for a piece of twine and bound the letter to the leg of the enormous owl that was perched on Aden's shoulder. Aden unlatched the window and Ares soared into the night, disappearing over the forest.

"Guess that's it, then," Draco murmured, leaning on the windowsill.

"For you, anyway," Aden muttered, and Draco suddenly remembered Pansy.

"About that," he said. "Look, there're plenty of rich pure-bloods who'd give their right leg and first born child to be married to you. You _are _the Malfoy heir."

"I know." Aden grinned at his brother. "I'd always kind of hoped to do the courtship, romance, true love thing, but I guess I don't really have that kind of time." He paused, then added, "And I honestly can't think of a woman I want to spend eternity with so I'll have to find someone I can at least tolerate."

"Have any close friends you could con into it?" Draco asked.

"Well, there are a few," Aden said slowly. "But I value their friendship too much to – " He broke off. A moment later, a mischievous grin spread across his face. "I wonder what Jackie's up to these days," he murmured, toying absently with Draco's best quill.

"Who's that?" Draco asked. He only knew a couple of his brother's friends, but that name didn't ring a bell.

"Old school nemesis," Aden said distantly, the smile becoming nostalgic. "I gave her hell, she gave me black eyes – when I let her. Kind of like your friend Ginny. Horribly poor, though. Not important enough to for me to marry."

"Couldn't you make something up?" Draco asked. He was surprised when his brother laughed.

"Of course," he said, his eyes lighting up. "You're a bleeding genius, mate! Third year – god, I can't believe I forgot!"

"What?" Draco demanded, turning from the window to face his brother.

"Third year was when Jackie transferred to Durmstrang," Aden explained. "Her father put her in Durmstrang, hoping to get himself into the Dark Lord's crowd. He was dirt poor, though, and only a half-blood. In order to get Jackie in, he had to create this whole fake fortune and name for his family. He invented a whole story, saying they lived in the Far East. The façade lasted until sixth year. Then a relative blew his cover. Jackie was expelled but so powerful a witch that Dumbledore took her in at Hogwarts. She was a Ravenclaw, I think."

"So you're thinking … what?" Draco prompted.

"Well, she's bound to be around somewhere," Aden said. "I'll just dig her up and offer the chance to be the richest witch in England. She hates poverty – let's face it, who wouldn't? I think she's come round. We'd just have to come up with some alias for her and make up a rich family somewhere. God, I love a challenge!"

"What's her last name?" Draco asked.

"Her _real_ last name is Pierce," Aden said absently.

Draco frowned.

"Her name's Jackie Pierce?" he asked. "That's weird."

"Why?"

"Well, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is Professor Pierce and I _think_ …" Draco paused, but he was sure he remembered Dumbledore saying her full name at the opening feast last September. "I think," he resumed, "her first name is Jacqueline."

Aden's eyes widened. "That was her full name. She always liked Jackie better." He paused, shaking his head. "Well, she'd be ideal for something like Defense Against the Dark Arts. We studied the Dark Arts almost exclusively at Durmstrang. What does she look like?"

"She's tall, almost as tall as me," Draco said. "She's got light brown hair and dark eyes." He scowled. "And she's the scariest professor I've ever had." And that was saying something, considering he'd had Professor Snape for six years.

"That's her, I'm sure of it." Aden shook his head, his eyes fixed on the darkening horizon beyond the window. "Bet I could convince her take on an alias."

"If she's anything like Ginny, good luck and try not to lose an eye," Draco muttered doubtfully.

"You question my skills," Aden cried dramatically, clutching his chest. "I'll never recover, Draco!"

Draco bit back a chuckle but couldn't stop a yawn.

"I'm going, I'm going," Aden said, nudging Draco and heading for the door.

"Aden?" Draco called after him.

"Yeah?"

"Are you serious about Professor Pierce?"

Aden smirked.

"A little faith, kid," he said. "We're practically on our honeymoon."

**)SOMETIMES(**

_TBC_


	3. The Plan

**Timeline (reminder)**: This is an AU, in the sense that Draco Malfoy doesn't really have a brother in the books, nor is there a Professor Jacqueline Pierce at Hogwarts. In all other ways, it follows canon through "Goblet of Fire," with hints at, but no strict adherence to canon in books five through seven.

**A/N: **I had a USB drive issue which erased a bunch of half-finished updated chapters I'd been working on for months *sob*, which is why this update was so long in coming. I apologize and I'm back on the bandwagon. Updates should be reasonably back-to-back.

**Disclaimer**: Characters, canon plots, etc. are the property of J.K. Rowling. I am making no money from this work and intend it only for publication on, with no other intended distribution and absolutely no sales. Thanks, J.K., for giving amateur writers like myself a chance to frolic in a fabulous fictional world!

**~Chapter 2~**

_Ah, yes_

_I remember too well_

_How hard_

_I tried avoiding your spell_

7 December arrived faster than Draco wanted and somewhat to his surprise, Dumbledore did contact him and Aden. The headmaster's usual all's-well attitude was gone and Draco didn't know if he liked the stern gravity any more than the annoying optimism. He also didn't know what to make of the resulting conversation.

"Ginevra took her parents' advice and chose to return to Hogwarts for the remainder of the holidays," Dumbledore told Draco. His head, formed out of the flame and smoke of the fire, tilted to the side as he stroked his beard. "While I doubt very much that Death Eaters could or would try to enter the school grounds, I've learned to be overcautious these last years."

"So you _do _think bringing her to Malfoy Manor is safer, sir?" Draco asked, biting his lip.

"Mr. Malfoy, my opinion of what's right for Miss Weasley is irrelevant," the headmaster said bluntly. "The choice is her family's and, most importantly, her own."

"The Weasleys would never let her come here," Draco countered impatiently. "They don't trust us. They won't even consider it. That's why Aden and I came to you, sir."

"What reason do they have to trust you, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore countered, the twinkle Draco hated just visible in his eyes for a moment. "This has little to do with trust, I think. It has much more to do with choice."

"Who cares why they won't listen!" Draco snapped, trying to split his glare between Dumbledore and Aden, who was rolling his eyes in the background. "This is the only plan that will work beyond a shadow of a doubt."

"Nothing is certain," Dumbledore said. "All I can promise, Mr. Malfoy, is that I will make every effort to represent the danger of Miss Weasley's situation to her family. For the record," he added, pinning Draco with a suddenly intent look that made Draco feel exposed, "I'm intrigued by your plan."

For the next few days, Draco kept to his room, pleading homework and a cold. His mother hated sniffles and had all his meals sent to him. Aden told him he was a drama queen and a prat and needed to get out more. Draco didn't mind because Aden mostly ate upstairs with him.

"You worry too much," Aden told him over luncheon one afternoon. "If you're not fussing about me and my stupid forearm, you're fussing about Ginevra and her family. Take your pick, mate, you can't have us both."

"Fine, I take the girl," Draco said, smiling crookedly around a mouthful of chilled greens. His mother would have been appalled at his table manners.

"If she'll have you," Aden returned with a smirk, throwing his napkin onto the table. "And if she finds out what a neurotic sod you are, she might want nothing to do with you. Anyway, stop trying to look after me. I can take care of myself."

"I'm not looking after anyone and I'm not neurotic," Draco asked grouchily. He really did hate Aden knowing that he was worried about him.

Aden snorted. "Bet my blushing bride will agree with me."

Professor Pierce hated Draco – she'd agree to anything if sounded like an insult to him.

Five days after Dumbledore's first Floo, he appeared again in Draco's fireplace. Unfortunately, Draco had no warning and was positioned with his back against the mantel and a towel wrapped round his waist after a long bath. He preferred air-drying, as he found it was kinder to his skin.

Draco was already tense and irritable after a mid-bath argument with Aden about no, Draco wasn't sulking like a girl, thank you very much, and so he didn't notice the headmaster until the old man coughed politely from the flames. Draco shrieked (thank Merlin Aden wasn't around to hear him) and nearly fell into the fire.

"Bloody hell!" he snapped, stumbling away from the hearth and twisting to look into the flames.

"I beg your pardon," Dumbledore said diplomatically, rubbing his jaw. Draco saw his lip twitch.

"Do the words _knock first_ mean anything to you?" Draco demanded. "Sir," he added.

"I do beg your pardon for not contacting you sooner," Dumbledore said. "It has taken me some time to track down the appropriate parties. I'll spare you the details but right now Arthur Weasley would like a word with you – "

He broke off as raised voices and clattering exploded from somewhere behind him.

"Have they come for her already?" he demanded, humiliated into the dust when his voice cracked.

"No, no," Dumbledore assured him over the noise. "Excuse me a moment, won't you?"

His head vanished but Draco could still hear an argument growing steadily louder through the Floo connection. He tried to listen and cast frantically about for a robe at the same time.

"Ginny, dear, be reasonable," Draco heard a man say. "Lucius Malfoy tried to harm you once before. Imagine if his son were used as a decoy, a way of bringing you right into his home where the Dark Lord would have easy access to you? Imagine if Bellatrix LeStrange were involved."

"I'm not stupid, Dad," came a sharp female voice. "But Dumbeldore trusts Malfoy, doesn't he? I mean, _Draco_ Malfoy. And I'm a danger to all of you if I stay home and a danger to my friends if I stay here." Draco assumed she meant Hogwarts. "Anyway, I've had some experience with dark wizards before. Or had you forgotten?"

"Of course not, darling," her father said grimly. "Why do you think I'm so against you going to stay at Malfoy Manor? I don't want you within a league of Lucius Malfoy ever again."

"This isn't just about me, though, is it?" Ginny countered. "I agree with Dumbledore – Mr. Malfoy isn't going to expect me to be living in his house. And, Dad, imagine if I saw or heard something that might help the Order! I'd practically be a spy."

Draco frowned. He hadn't thought of that because he hadn't thought Ginny Weasley daft as a bat. Only a fool would try and snoop around the Manor without the master knowing about it.

"Absolutely not, young lady!" Arthur Weasley began and the unintelligible voices nearby rose as well.

"Professor," Ginny said over the commotion, "can I speak with Malfoy, please?"

"Certainly, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said, and Draco had just enough time to yank on a robe and toss his towel aside before Ginny's head appeared in the fire. Her hair blended with the flames, making it seem longer than it was. Draco swallowed.

"Malfoy," she said, nodding in a businesslike way.

"Weasley," he said, pulling the robe a bit tighter.

"You might have heard my little argument with my father a minute ago," she said.

"I might have," Draco agreed. "What's your decision, then?"

"He thinks I'm not old enough to look out for myself, you see," Ginny said, ignoring him. Behind her, a storm of agreements (comprising more than one male voice, Draco noted) greeted this pronouncement. Ginny ignored them, too. "But I think I am. Before I put my life in the hands of you and your brother," she went on, "I just want to clear up a few things." Again, male voices chorused behind her. Again, she went on as though they hadn't. "I need to know why you're doing this."

"It's what any decent person would do, isn't it?" Draco offered, figuring that any sort of earnest entreaty would only make her more suspicious. That sort of performance worked for Potter. Draco had his own strategy.

"And you've been so decent to me over the last five years," Ginny retorted, quirking an eyebrow. "Maybe you think I ought to be blindly grateful to you for warning me and my family about the danger," she added slowly. "But this is way too big a risk to take without something being in it for you."

"This warning alone may have saved your life, you know, Weasley," Draco pointed out.

Ginny smiled. "Exactly what I thought you'd say. So I'll put it another way: if I do set up house with you, what's the charge?"

"Put it on your tab," Draco said, raising his eyebrows. "This round's on me."

"So generous," Ginny said coolly. "Again I ask. What's in it for you?"

"What, apart from the pleasure of your company, concealing a fugitive, and proving to my father that I'm as clever a son as he could ever hope for?" Draco said, spreading his arms wide and smirking. "What's _not_ in it for me, Ginevra?"

"Any chance of getting a straight answer from you?" Ginny asked, crossing her arms.

"Any chance you're not going to spy on my family while you're here?" he shot back, crossing his arms again. "I'm being straight with you, Weasley. This is the right thing to do but it doesn't mean I'm turning my back on my family or choosing sides or whatever so if you're looking for some sort of moral code, you're in for a disappointment."

Ginny sighed, glaring half-heartedly from the flames. "Fine," she said at last. "Let me put it another way, then. Warning me about your father is one thing. But bringing me into your house, protecting me like that. You're risking a lot for me and for absolutely no good reason that I can see. Wouldn't _you_ be suspicious if were in my position?"

She was right, of course. From her standpoint, she had no reason at all to believe his intentions honorable. Nor did her family. Why, then, should she place her life in his hands?

"Two things," he said after careful thought. "First of all, I wouldn't wish my father or his lot on _anyone_ – even Potter. I've seen what they're capable of." Ginny's eyes widened but she didn't interrupt. "The other thing," he went on, "is that I'm being totally honest with you. Taking you in and keeping you safe isn't about me betraying my family. I don't like my father's lot but I'm not willing to turn on my own blood yet, either. I'm not joining your little resistance movement by doing this. I'm offering to do this one thing because I'm sure it's the right thing to do. Take it or leave it, Weasley. That's all I've got."

Ginny stared at him, her mind clearly working on something. Her expression was difficult to read, but Draco thought she looked resigned. "Oh, hell," she said at last, "I know I'm endangering everyone whether I stay at Hogwarts or go home." She glanced over her shoulder again. "Dad, I'm going. If you want to speak to Malfoy, now's the time."

An explosion of noise met this pronouncement, but Draco felt – and rightly, he later discovered – that Ginny would have her own way.

He then spoke to her father (who clearly thought him a miniature Lucius), her two eldest brothers, and her mother. Each had their own questions, accusations, and suspicions, but when it came right down to it, they respected Dumbledore's judgment and his approval of the plan was really all they needed. It helped that Aden came quietly in about halfway through the interrogation and took over from Draco, speaking to Mr. Weasley and Ginny's brother Bill. Draco took this as his cue to find some proper clothing and drop exhaustedly into an overstuffed armchair.

At length, Dumbledore's head reappeared in the fire, signaling Draco that he was needed again.

"We seem to have reached an agreement," the headmaster said. "Molly and Arthur have given their consent, so long as I act as Secret Keeper. I will work both of you into the spell so that you can see and interact with Ginny as well. And so, nothing remains but for you two to prepare for her arrival."

"Sir, I've been thinking about a proper escort for Ginevra," Aden said slowly. "I know you want to plant someone from the Aurors but I think I have a better solution, one that will keep this out of Ministry gossip. I think you'll agree, given the state of the government, that that's probably what's best for us all right now."

"What do you have in mind?" Dumbledore asked.

Aden explained and Dumbledore began to smile.

"And I only suggest this, sir," Aden concluded a few minutes later, "because Miss Pierce and I are old school friends and she really has the capabilities of an Auror. She won't be missed at Hogwarts if she takes a leave of absence and if you can arrange cover for her with a single Auror to pretend to be her father, someone you really trust who my father won't recognize …"

"I think it a fine idea, indeed," Dumbledore said, nodding. He turned his head slightly. "Miss Weasley? Does this seem a suitable solution to you?"

Draco heard an apprehensive answer.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, and Draco heard him clap his hands together. "I'll speak with Jacqueline tonight and see what she says. I'm sure she'll not have any objection, particularly since she ought to be able to return to work after the holiday is over."

"Do you expect my father to give up on her just because Hogwarts is in session again?" Draco demanded incredulously.

"Yes," Dumbledore said simply.

"But …" Draco floundered for a moment. "Sir, I know it seems unlikely they'll attack the school but my father is committed to this. If he fails, he'll probably be in a lot of trouble. He won't just let it go because school's back on."

"But you will have to return to school as well, Draco. The professors will all be back and I suspect it will be much harder to find a way in undetected than it would be right now, with the castle almost empty." He smiled at Aden. "And I think your brother will have better things to do than baby-sit for the rest of the year."

Draco heard Ginny's indignant exclamation from somewhere behind Dumbledore. The headmaster ignored her. "I suspect that if the Death Eaters don't find Ginny within a few weeks, your father will think of a new scheme and Voldemort won't be too troubled. My experience with Voldemort's followers is that they are impatient. All we need is to throw them off the scent. In the meantime, the whole family can go on holiday somewhere far away, pretending that they have Ginny with them. We have an Auror in the Ministry who is a Metamorphmagus and I'm sure would be willing to take on Ginny's form for a few weeks if necessary. Either the Death Eaters take the bait and follow, in which case we set our people on them, or they forget about Ginny, in which case we wait for another foolish scheme to foil."

No one else spoke, which meant that there was probably a consensus that it was the best plan anyone could think of and would have to do.

"Well," Dumbledore said after a moment's silence. "I think that's all for now. Is Malfoy Manor ready for house guests?"

"As it'll ever be," Aden said. "We've made arrangements so no one will notice Ginevra is here and Jackie's as good as – well, part of the family." He gave a shark-toothed grin.

And that was that. Draco and Aden heard back the following day that Professor Pierce had agreed to come and look after Ginny.

"Are you sure you're both up for this? You and Professor Pierce, I mean," Draco said to his brother. "I mean, this is a pretty big hoax and if Father looks too hard at her background –"

"He won't," Aden said, unruffled. "If you're going to worry about anything, don't let it be that. Dad trusts me, remember? If I back her up, he'll never think to check her story. And she'll be prepared with family history. Enough to convince Mum and Dad, anyway."

"Well," Draco said with a grin. "Guess this means Pansy's off the hook, eh?"

"Lucky for me," Aden muttered. "I'd feel like a cradle robber."

Draco sniggered. He didn't actually think Pansy would mind his brother all that much. Aden was good-looking and rich and Pansy was fairly opportunistic with boys. He thought about telling her how close she'd come to being his sister-in-law. Maybe he'd save it for a nice, post-holiday letdown when they got back to Hogwarts.

The following day, Aden left, telling his parents he would be bringing someone to supper. Draco stayed out of their way, too nervous and jumpy to be around anyone. He plowed through his homework, figuring that with Ginny around, he wouldn't have a prayer of focusing on anything.

At five o'clock, Draco put away the last of assignments, dusted and rolled up a finished Arithmancy essay (long enough to surpass anything _Granger_ might have written, he thought), and put his quill on its silver stand. The stand, a gift from Aden, was designed to coax the excess ink on the quill's tip to drip back into his ink bottle. It saved having to clean his quills and it saved ink, so Draco used it whenever he was at home.

Aden had told Draco to meet him in the entrance hall at half five and Draco was compulsively early to everything that wasn't a Death Eater-infested evening engagement so he sat moodily on the stairs and chewed off his fingernails. Mercifully, his parents didn't know Aden was coming home at half five and weren't around to see Draco disgrace them with his poor manners.

At exactly half five, the front doors creaked open and Draco jumped. Three figures hurried into the entrance hall, shaking snow from their cloaks and hair. Draco got to his feet and went slowly down to his brother.

"Just dump your wet stuff there, yeah?" Aden told his companions, his thick cloak dropping from his shoulders. It didn't even hit the floor before being whisked away by a house-elf.

"Bloody ridiculous," Professor Pierce muttered, her lip curling. She deliberately held onto her cloak until it was tugged from her grip by another elf. "I've got arms and legs of my own, haven't I?"

_That's my cue_, Draco though darkly, stepping off the staircase and coming forward to greet their guests.

"Malfoy," Ginny said, eyeing him apprehensively as she shook out her cloak. The elves hadn't taken it because they didn't know she was there.

"Weasley," he returned. "Give me that." He tugged her cloak out of her hands. A moment later, an elf appeared, grabbed it, and vanished.

"Draco," Aden said loudly. "I'd love you to meet Jacqueline Lyon. My fiancée."

Draco's lip twitched but he held out his hand to the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, who looked mightily volatile as she took it. Whether this was because Draco was her least favorite student or because she had just been introduced to him as his future sister-in-law, Draco didn't know.

"A pleasure, Miss Lyon," he said, resisting the urge to kiss her hand and see if her head exploded. He didn't want to spend the rest of the year losing Slytherin House points just for breathing.

"Likewise," she growled. She tugged him toward her and Draco wondered for a moment if she was going to kiss his cheek. Instead, she hissed into his ear, "If you tell _any_ of your little friends back at Hogwarts about this, you'll wish you'd never been born, boy."

"Here, now," Aden said congenially, though he lowered his voice. "No threatening the kid brother. You two are supposed to be _bonding_."

"Meaning no disrespect, _dear_, but bite me," Pierce hissed out of the corner of her mouth, letting Draco go.

"If you insist," Aden said with a coy smile. "Maybe later."

"Er – maybe we should … go in to supper or something?" Ginny offered, looking nervously between the adults.

"Too right, little lady," Aden said, grinning at her. She blinked and her cheeks went pink. Draco rolled his eyes. "Come along, my darling love," Aden said to Professor Pierce with a flourish, offering her his arm. She wound hers through it with an impressive scowl. "And do," he added in an undertone, "try to fix your face before we see my parents. I expect they'll be suspicious if you look like you want to kill me."

"Honesty is the best policy," Pierce retorted, but she shook her head and it seemed suddenly as though Draco were looking at a different person. Her face relaxed, and a wide, open smile replaced the scowl. "I always cherished a secret ambition to be a stage actress," she said to no one in particular.

"You'd be brilliant at it," Ginny said, shaking her head as she followed them through the entrance hall and into the dining room.

"Ah, Aden, we were beginning to worry," Narcissa said, glancing up from her soup.

"Sorry, Mum. We wanted to fly instead of Apparate and we got caught in a snowstorm," he told her. "Mum, Dad, I'd like you to meet Jacqueline Lyon. My fiancée." He ignored Ginny, of course, and Draco threw a glance at her. He wasn't too surprised to see her looking extremely edgy. She tip-toed as she followed Draco around the table and slid carefully into a chair beside his. Draco wondered again exactly what her involvement with his father had been.

"Oh, how delightful!" Draco's mother looked as delighted as Draco had ever seen her. She gestured Professor Pierce to her with a long-fingered hand. Grasping Pierce's hands in hers, Narcissa said, "Why didn't you tell us, Aden?"

"Don't take this the wrong way," Aden said. "It's just that I knew it would be kind of a big deal when the news broke and we wanted some quiet before the storm. Anyway," he added, kissing Pierce's cheek, "I only just proposed yesterday."

"Darling, this is simply lovely," Narcissa said, kissing her son, then his fiancée. "It's wonderful to meet you, my dear," she added to Pierce. "I look forward to getting to know you. I take it you'll be with us for a while?"

"Yes, Mrs. Malfoy, and thank you," Pierce said, with a polite smile.

"Narcissa, of course," Narcissa insisted, taking Pierce's arm and leading her over to an empty chair beside her. "You must eat. We want to get to know the woman who stole our son's heart. This is my husband, Lucius." Draco hid a smirk. He assumed the name Lucius Malfoy would be a familiar one to Pierce, particularly if she were in with Dumbledore's crowd.

"Delighted, my dear," Lucius said, taking her hand and kissing her fingers. His silky tone was the one he used when in the political arena. Draco hoped fervently that Pierce had done her homework and had a solid back story. Despite Aden's confidence that their father wouldn't question Pierce, Draco knew that if anyone discovered a ruse involving pure blood and title, it would be Lucius. "Forgive me," Draco's father went on. "I didn't quite catch your surname."

Draco waited until Lucius's full attention was on Pierce before rolling his eyes.

"Your father," Ginny said on his left, her hands balled into fists in her lap, "makes me _sick_, Malfoy."

Draco held himself still with difficulty.

"Lyon, sir," Professor Pierce told Draco's father, meeting his gaze with a look of neutrality.

Lucius's thin brows rose in a calculated expression of polite respect. "Indeed," he said, leaning forward. "Any relation to the Lyons of Waterford?"

_Good one_, Draco thought, as a house-elf set food in front of him. He suddenly understood the use of that particular family name. The Lyons were a powerful pure-blood family who resided somewhere in Ireland. Not much was known of them except that they had once been avid supporters of the Dark Lord and had ridiculous amounts of money.

"Third cousin, actually," Pierce told him, shrugging. "My father grew up with Liam Lyon. Unfortunately, they had a bit of a falling out shortly before I was born and haven't spoken since." Thereby giving her an excuse not to know the head of the Lyon family personally, Draco realized with new respect.

"A pity," Lucius said, letting her hand go at last. "Well, I look forward to meeting your father, my dear." As neither Aden nor Pierce looked alarmed, Draco assumed they had planned for the potential problem of family meetings. Draco decided to get the whole story as soon as they went up to bed. He also decided to get it from Aden, who was less likely to take his head off.

"I'm sure he can't wait meet you, either," was Pierce's only comment before taking the seat Aden pulled out for her.

"So, when did you meet Aden, Miss Pierce?" Narcissa asked, turning interested eyes on the professor.

Pierce _was_ an excellent actress. She actually managed a blush.

"Oh, call her Jackie. Everyone does," Aden cut in, smiling and taking Pierce's free hand on the tabletop. Draco fought a grin as Pierce's fingers flexed ever so slightly. Ginny had her fist in her mouth and was shaking with giggles. "It's funny, actually," Aden went on. "We were at a little school reunion several months back – Jack didn't actually go to Durmstrang, you see, but her father was good friends with Karkaroff, so she spent some time there. Anyway, we sort of looked at each across the room and –"

"Really, Aden, all the gory details," Pierce said.

"Not at all, love. Mum and Dad were young and in love once, too," Aden said, batting his eyes at Pierce.

Draco choked on a mouthful of soup. "Excuse me," he said, taking a hasty gulp of water as everyone turned to stare at him. "Soup was hot." At his side, Ginny's face was crinkled in a look that was half-amused and half-disgusted. She also had her eye on Draco's bread plate and he realized she was probably hungry.

"Anyway," Aden went on, with a look of distain at his little brother that clearly said _shut the hell up_, "I asked a mutual friend of ours to introduce us. He did, we found out we have loads in common, and the rest is history." He kissed Pierce's cheek again. She beamed at him. It was all rather sickening, Draco decided.

Narcissa put her fingers to her lips. "Oh, this is just lovely," she sighed. "Do you know when the wedding will be?"

"Not really," Pierce said quickly. "I mean," she added, brushing her hand over her hair and calling attention to a little ring on her finger that Draco hadn't noticed before, "Aden only proposed yesterday."

"As soon as possible," Aden countered, with a grin that might have been a smirk. "Perhaps some time this month?"

"Or January," Pierce cut in hastily. "Just," she added with a smile for Aden, "so that we have plenty of time to prepare. I want our wedding to be special, Aden." With no hesitation that even Draco could detect, Pierce leaned forward and kissed him.

"Charming, charming," Narcissa said.

Dinner passed with polite conversation about wedding details, dress shopping, and whether new wedding bands would be made or a set of the Malfoy heirloom rings pulled from Gringotts. Draco tuned most of it out. It was irrelevant. Once Ginny and Draco returned to school, Professor Pierce would be back at Hogwarts too.

Unless Aden had other ideas. Draco had noticed his brother's mention of a wedding this month. Could he possibly still be scheming to actually marry Pierce in the hope of escaping a marriage to Pansy? After seeing how volatile Pierce was toward Aden, Draco would've thought his brother would have gone right off the idea of spending the rest of his life with her. Anyway, their back story would never hold up in the long run.

Draco stomach tightened. What sort of plan did they have on the off-chance Lucius threw another party and Draco's schoolmates showed up and recognized her? He sure hoped his brother had thought of that because it suddenly seemed a very large loophole.

"Well," said Narcissa, after the last dish had been cleared away. "Shall we have tea in the drawing room?"

"We're pretty knackered, actually. It was a long trip," Aden told his mother with a winning smile. "Tomorrow evening, Mum?"

"Of course, darling," she said with an indulgent smile. "Good night, Aden, Jackie."

She gave them a meaningful look that caused Pierce to blush (Draco couldn't decide if she was faking this time or not). After Narcissa kissed each of them goodnight, they left, Aden giving Draco and Ginny a significant look.

"I think I'll turn in, too," Draco said, standing. "Good night, Mother."

"Good night, dear," she said, actually smiling at him.

"Come on, Weasley," he murmured out of the corner of his mouth.

"What was that, dear?" Narcissa called.

"I said I think I'll have some whiskey," he called without turning. Ginny sniggered and Draco bit down very hard on a laugh as he pushed open the door and closed it behind him.

"You're a pig, Malfoy," Ginny said, although she was grinning.

"And you're bloody annoying, Weasley," he retorted. "But you don't hear me complaining."

He was a little surprised to see Aden and Pierce outside Aden's bedroom door at the end of the corridor. They were arguing in low voices. Aden glanced up suddenly, catching sight of Draco and Ginny. Pierce saw them, too. Scowling, she shoved open Aden's bedroom door and dragged him through.

Curious, Draco crept down the hall to Aden's door, which Professor Pierce hadn't closed all the way. He stood back a little, pressed against the wall so they wouldn't see him. Ginny leaned around him, keeping out of sight but close enough to hear.

" – am not doing it! Are you out of your mind?" Pierce demanded.

"You don't really have a choice," Aden pointed out, his voice cool. "You agreed to this, you know. We have to play it out."

"We're playing it out _my_ way," Pierce told him. "It's called conjuring my own cot and sleeping as far away from you as it's possible to get. It's a big room."

"Let's consider, just for a minute, how crap your plan is," Aden said impatiently. "House- elves come barging into this room every morning. If they come in and see another bed, they'll know something's up. They go to Barney, the head elf, who reports daily to my mother. My mother finds out we're not in the same bed and knows something's wrong because you're not an eighteenth century maiden, are you? She and my dad give me whatever I bloody want but they're not stupid."

There was a long paused. Draco risked a peek through the crack in the door. He could see his brother leaning against the mantelpiece, watching Professor Pierce through hooded eyes.

Pierce looked like she was about to hex the chimney down on Aden. Her fists clenched and unclenched at her side; her eyes blazed. She opened her mouth to say something, probably very rude, but Aden beat her to it.

"Go on, then, Jack," he said softly, pushing away from the fireplace and going to stand a few feet from her. "It's only for a few weeks. You might actually start to like me."

"Unlikely," Pierce said, with a glacial smile. "Now, I'm going to check on Ginny. Where is she?"

"Try Draco's room," Aden said stiffly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Two doors down."

Pierce's expression darkened. "I see. I'll be having a word with that boy." She turned away from Aden, moving toward the door.

"Bugger!" Draco mouthed at Ginny. She nodded and darted after him down the corridor. They threw themselves into Draco's room. Draco dashed to his desk and grabbed a book. Ginny dove onto the sofa by the fire and tried to look like she'd been lounging there for ages. Seconds later, there came a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Draco asked innocently.

"Let me in, Mr. Malfoy," came Pierce's voice through the door.

Draco got up, ignoring Ginny's stifled laugh, and let the professor into the room. She looked around as she entered, her eyes coming to rest on Ginny. "Are you all right, Miss Weasley?"

"Fine, Professor," Ginny said, doing a dreadful job of looking innocent. "I'm just tired." She glared at Draco. "And hungry."

"I should think so," Pierce muttered, glancing around Draco's room. Rolling her eyes, she turned them on Draco. "You'll have to remember to feed Miss Weasley," she said. "She won't be able to eat with us, you know."

"I'll take care of it," Draco said defensively. He wasn't stupid!

"Too right you will," Pierce said. "And where is Miss Weasley sleeping tonight?"

"Wherever you are, I expect," Draco said innocently, returning to his desk.

"How would your brother feel about you eavesdropping on our little conversation?" Pierce said softly. Draco glared at her and Ginny sighed. Pierce gave them both exasperated looks. "There's a reason Professor Dumbledore hired me as your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," she said impatiently. "And it wasn't just for my stunning good looks. Now, Mr. Malfoy?"

"She can't have my bed because the house-elves will notice if I sleep on the sofa," Draco said grouchily. "She can sleep on the sofa."

"Fine with me," Ginny said quickly, with an apprehensive look at Professor Pierce.

"Very well, then," Pierce said. Her eyes fixed on Ginny again. "Miss Weasley, you're almost of age so I don't think I need to lecture you about propriety."

Draco snorted as Ginny's eyes went very round. "Professor, please don't," she said faintly. "I am very very happy to be on the sofa and will not, under any circumstances, go near Malfoy or his bed, even a little, in a million years."

Draco had a little sulk which, fortunately, neither of them saw.

"I'm glad to hear it," Pierce said briskly. "I know what some of your housemates get up to."

"Do you?" Ginny asked, looking a little green.

Pierce gave her a look. "I was your age less than ten years ago," she remarked. "I know what I was like then." She gave Draco a look as well.

"What?" he demanded. "I'm not going to touch her. We brought her here to protect her, not so I could knock her up."

Ginny made a faintly horrified noise and Draco lapsed back into his sulk. She needn't act like it was the worst thing she'd ever heard.

"I bloody well hope not," Pierce said sharply. Her expression relaxed a bit as she looked at Ginny. "Miss Weasley, I'm just down the hall if you need me. If anything seems amiss – a house-elf looks at you or you feel any side effects from the Fidelius Charm** –** you need to let me know right away."

"Yes, ma'am," Ginny said quickly.

"Have something to eat and get some rest," Pierce advised her, before slipping out of the room and pulling the door closed.

"Scary," Ginny muttered. "I thought she was going to give me the 'don't shag Malfoys' speech again."

"Again?" Draco demanded.

"She wouldn't let it go on the way over," Ginny grumbled, shaking her head and not looking at him. "Anyway," she added, smirking, "she took you down a peg or two."

"I'd rather have her lecture me than have Aden pound me into the ground if he finds out I heard that conversation," Draco shot back. "I don't give a damn what she says."

"She scares the pants off me," Ginny said frankly. "I heard she went to Durmstrang."

"So did my brother," Draco retorted.

"That explains a few things," Ginny shot back.

"Whatever," Draco muttered, refusing to be drawn into an argument. He snapped his fingers and a house-elf appeared. He felt a bit smug when Ginny jumped. "Fix me a plate, Miggy, I'm hungry," he said. She nodded, her one ear flopping, and vanished.

"She's usually back in thirty seconds or so," Draco said. In fifteen, she was back with a tray which she deposited on his desk before vanishing again.

"Eat up" he told Ginny. "I'm going to bed."

He went to his wardrobe, suddenly wishing Ginny Weasley wouldn't have a chance to see him in his pyjamas. Or at least, that he had proper ones. He normally slept in trackies he wore for Quidditch practice and old Puddlemere or Tornadoes shirts he had from league matches (these were kept in a hidden compartment of his wardrobe that only one house-elf knew about because if his mum or dad ever found out about them, they'd burn down his wardrobe).

He reached into the back of the wardrobe and jammed his thumb. "Weasel, someone put your trunk in here," he snapped, biting out a curse. "In case you're interested, it tried to break my finger."

"It's vicious like that," Ginny said, appearing beside him. "And don't call me Weasel." She waited while he dug out his shirt and trackies. He noticed she was staring.

"What?" he muttered grouchily.

"I just hadn't realized you wore scrubs like the rest of us," she explained, opening her trunk and pulling out the largest pair of trackies Draco had ever seen and a scrap of material with "Holyhead Harpies" printed on it. Draco guessed that it might be a shirt and realized that if he saw her in it, he might ravish her.

He stalked to the loo and slammed the door, taking a long time about brushing his teeth. When he emerged, Ginny had already devoured the tray of food and was standing indecisively in the middle of the room. Fortunately, she had on a massive jumper over the scrap of shirt.

"They're my brother Bill's," she explained when she caught him staring. "He leaves all his old Quidditch stuff behind when he's off curse-breaking. I like it," she added defensively. "It's warm and it smells like him."

"You're weird, Weasley," Draco said, though he'd done exactly the same thing with Aden's old jumpers when he was a kid and Aden was away at Durmstrang.

"Sod off," Ginny muttered. Then she surprised him by going to his bed and crawling into it.

"What are you doing?" he asked carefully.

"Don't you dare tell Professor Pierce," Ginny said, curling up under the blankets on the far side. "But I'm not sleeping on a ruddy sofa. It's bloody freezing in here and this is a big bed."

Draco groaned.

"What?" Ginny demanded. "I'm not repulsive. I don't snore."

She had no idea at all … "Fine," he snapped. "But stay on your side."

"Too right I will," she retorted. "And if you grope me, I'll kill you. Twice."

"I wouldn't grope you if you paid me, Weasel," he promised, pushing his cold feet under the blankets. "If you snore, I'll push you off the bed," he added.

"I don't snore!" she repeated, scowling.

"Bet you do," Draco said, grinning at her across the pillows. "Night, Weasley."

**)SOMETIMES(**

_TBC_


	4. The Problem

**Timeline (reminder)**: This is an AU, in the sense that Draco Malfoy doesn't really have a brother in the books, nor is there a Professor Jacqueline Pierce at Hogwarts. In all other ways, it follows canon through "Goblet of Fire," with hints at, but no strict adherence to canon in books five through seven.

**A/N: **Another updated chapter. I'm sorry this update is taking me so long. Grad school is a can of worms I wasn't prepared for when I opened it – that's this update's lame excuse. Anyway, hope you all enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: Characters, canon plots, etc. are the property of J.K. Rowling. I am making no money from this work and intend it only for publication on, with no other intended distribution and absolutely no sales. Thanks, J.K., for giving amateur writers like myself a chance to frolic in a fabulous fictional world!

**~ Chapter 3~**

_Standing on a darkened stage  
Stumbling through the lines  
Others have excuses  
_But I have my reasons why

We get distracted by the dreams of our own  
But nobody's happy while feeling alone  
And knowing how hard it hurts when we fall  
We lean another ladder against the wrong wall

Draco knew he shouldn't be on the floor.

Floors were cold and hard and not for sleeping on. Floors were for house-elves and Weasleys and, apparently, people from East Asia (he'd heard about it from Blaise Zabini, who traveled a lot, but he wasn't sure he believed it).

He peeled open self-heavy eyes and squinted around. He lay on the floor beside his bed in a tangle of sheets and a few pillows. Stiff and sore, as though he'd just come from Quidditch practice instead of a night's rest, he sat up and peered over the side of his bed.

Ginny Weasely lay sprawled in center of the mattress, shifting restlessly. Her eyelids fluttered, as though she were dreaming. She hummed a little and rolled over, pressing her face into the pillows. Her hair lay in a sun-burnt mess across the pale blue sheets. Sometime during the night, she had thrown her large jumper to the floor. The scrap of Holyhead Harpies shirt slid like an indecent reminder up her stomach.

Draco bit back a groan. Wincing at the knot in his shoulder, he climbed to his feet, pulling his dislodged bedding with him.

"Stay out, Malfoy."

One of Ginny's bright eyes popped open and she glared at him. "You've been banned." She stretched a bit, the Harpies shirt riding up another inch. Draco licked his lips.

"This is _my _bed, Weasely," he pointed out, sitting down on the edge of it and cracking his back.

"_I'm_ the guest," she retorted, tugging absently at the end of her shirt.

Draco had to look away or he was going to have the shirt off her. "Do you happen to know," he asked slowly, "how I ended up on the floor?"

"How should I?" Ginny said, closing her eyes and rolling onto her stomach. She pulled the blankets up over her head. "You kick," came her muffled voice a moment later. "I expect I pushed you out sometime during the night so I wouldn't get a black eye."

"You expect you pushed me out?" Draco repeated, glaring at the lump under his blankets.

"Possibly I did," Ginny admitted, peeking at him from under the duvet. "As I said, I don't specifically remember. I do remember you kicking, though. Call it self-defense on my part."

"I don't give a toss what you want to call it," Draco told her grouchily. "Move over, Weasley. I'm cold and, thanks to you, I feel like a Beater took a bat to me."

"No," Ginny said, pulling the blankets back over her head. "You'll only kick me again." She rolled away from him onto her side.

Draco dropped his blankets and pillows back onto the bed. Then he crawled into the middle and yanked Ginny's blanket off her head. She blinked up at him, probably surprised at how close he suddenly was.

"Get this, Weasel," Draco said, slowly and clearly in case she was as daft as she seemed. "You can _share_ my bed. You can't steal it. If you don't like the kicking, find yourself another bed. Or a sofa."

"Steady on. Don't get your pants in a twist," she muttered. Her lip stuck out and she glared at something over Draco's shoulder. Draco could feel her breath on his cheek and suddenly felt very nervous.

To relieve his feelings, he flipped Ginny over twice, cocooning her in blankets, and rolled her neatly off the bed. She shrieked, taking most of the bed clothes with her. Draco's little pile remained and he curled up comfortably in them.

"I told you you'd have to share," he said, burrowing into the sheets. He grinned as he heard a stream of expletives from the floor. Out of the goodness of his heart, he left her enough room to crawl back onto the bed, which was looking more and more like a nest. She scooted in but didn't try to push Draco out again.

"Fine," she muttered. "But you get to explain all the bruises to the adults."

"I'm not worried," Draco said, his eyes closed. "My brother won't kill me."

"It's Pierce I'd worry about," Ginny retorted, kicking the bedding around until it suited her. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to try to go back to sleep before she turns up and kills us both."

"Don't let me stop you," Draco grumbled, pulling his blankets up to his chin.

But he couldn't sleep. Stupid Weasely. Stupid bed. Stupid fantasies involving Weasley in the bed, covered in chocolate. He tossed and turned for a while, keeping as far from Ginny as he could. Eventually, he gave up and went for a book he'd left on the bedside table. He propped pillows up behind his back and snapped his fingers.

His house-elf appeared, poured him a mug of black coffee, and vanished again.

"Mal foy."

Ginny glared at him over the bedspread.

"What now, Weasley?"

She opened her mouth, closed it, and then said, "Is that coffee?"

He cradled it to his chest. "Don't even think about it."

She pouted and Draco hastily turned his attention to his book.

He jumped and nearly upset the coffee everywhere when he felt a breath against his ear.

"Weasley!" he snarled.

"What?" she whined, sticking out her lip again. Draco almost fell out of bed without her help.

"Get away from me," he managed, holding his coffee as far away as he could.

"Please?" she said. "Please, just a little?"

"What," came a dark and foreboding voice from the doorway, "is going on in here?"

Draco jumped, fell out of bed, and spilled his precious coffee everywhere. Ginny shrieked and yanked all the bedclothes over her head. Aden leaned on the door jam, laughing his stupid head off, and Professor Pierce glowered at Draco across the room.

"Now look what you've done!" Draco howled, staring sorrowfully at his broken coffee mug. He snapped his fingers and the house-elf reappeared.

"Sir – " she began, staring at the mess.

"This time, just bring the pot!" he snapped, and she vanished with a squeak of terror.

"Again, I ask," Pierce said, in a tone that could cut steel. "What is going on in here?"

"I was just – I just wanted some coffee, Professor," came a small voice from under the bedclothes. "I was just trying to have it off Malfoy, that's all."

Aden had the hiccups now. "Oh, shut up," Draco muttered at his brother. When the house-elf reappeared a moment later, Draco grabbed the coffee pot and took three large gulps. The elf stared at him until he snarled at her. Then she squealed again and fled with a snap that dispersed the spilled coffee and remains of the mug.

"Are you lying to me, Miss Weasley?" Pierce asked the lump under the covers, advancing further into the room.

"No," came the quavering voice of the lump. "I swear, Professor," she said, "I have not and will never shag Malfoy!"

"Now see what you've done, Jackie?" Aden said, at last able to catch his breath. He wandered into the room and sat down on the edge of Draco's bed. "Miss Weasley, no one is going to hex you. Are they, Jackie?"

"Come out, Miss Weasley," Pierce ordered.

"I'm cold," Ginny said, staying where she was (she had survival instincts, Draco noticed with some surprise).

"For Merlin's sake, I'm not a monster," Pierce snapped. "Miss Weasley, stop cowering this minute!"

"I'm fine where I am," Ginny insisted pitifully.

"Go on, kid, aren't you hungry?" Aden coaxed. "Why don't you come out and have some breakfast?"

"That's right, she's a Weasley," Draco mumbled, still on the floor with his precious coffee pot. "Appeal to her stomach."

"Oy!" Ginny peered out at Draco from the covers, glowering.

"Ginevra, please come out of there," Pierce said wearily. "We have a lot to do today. Among other things, I'd like my breakfast."

"And I'd like my parents to see us eat our breakfast," Aden put in. "And you, Draco," he added as Draco tried to sink out of sight between his bed and night table with his coffee. "You're already top of the dungeon-bound list around here. I want you properly on Mum's good side for the wedding."

"You're not getting married," Draco growled after another swallow of coffee. "And no one's sending me to the dungeons."

"See if they don't," Aden retorted. "Go on, get dressed, you two." He patted Ginny's blanket-covered head and left.

"And don't think that just because we're leaving you alone again," Pierce began.

"We're not shagging!" Draco and Ginny bellowed at the same time. They shared a horrified look and Draco was relieved that Ginny went as red as he did.

Pierce rolled her eyes but left when Aden's voice said, "Come on, Jack, while I'm young."

Ginny slowly pulled the blankets off her head. "How many more days until we go back to Hogwarts?"

"Too, too many," Draco mumbled, downing the last of his coffee and struggling to untangle himself from his bedding. He left it in a heap by his bed and made for his wardrobe.

"At least your life's not in danger," Ginny muttered. "Whether Pierce kills me or your dad does, what're the odds I'll survive the bleeding holiday?"

"You obviously have no idea what my father's opinion of me is," Draco bit out. "And I'm not lucky enough to have a Secret Keeper."

Draco could feel Ginny's gaze on his back. "Cheer up," she said at last. "You've got two beautiful women living with you for the holidays."

"I've got one homicidal woman living with me," he corrected, "and a schoolgirl who makes me spill my coffee."

"Nice to feel appreciated," Ginny grumbled, shoving passed him into the wardrobe. "I know you've got your own loo. Where is it, then?"

"Over here," said Draco as he walked into it and shut the door. He dressed and reentered the room, half hoping to find her running about in her knickers. Sadly, she was dressed and slumped in the armchair by the fire. "You could have done down already," Draco pointed out, checking his hair in the wardrobe mirror.

"I'm terrified to go anywhere around here without one of you about," she admitted. "If you're done making yourself beautiful …"

"You could do with a little of that, Weasley," he sneered, sweeping past her. "Come on, then."

She called him something under her breath but followed him out the door.

They made it through the rest of the day without quarreling, or, in fact, talking. Ginny seemed distracted and edgy but she looked as though she were adjusting to being talked around and overlooked by everyone.

Jackie (who quietly threatened Draco with the rack if he didn't get used to calling her that for the sake of convincing his parents they got on) was doing a bang-up job of pretending to be mad about Aden. It was all a bit sickening, Draco thought grumpily over lunch. Every chance they got in front of Draco's parents, they were murmuring in each other's ears or holding hands or kissing. Ginny's expression any time she caught Draco's eye told him she was feeling basically the same way – eww.

And all the lovey-dovey showing off for Lucius and Narcissa made Jackie especially grumpy when the four young people were alone.

"I'm not sure I can take much more of this," Jackie muttered, when the four of them were heading up from dinner.

"Why?" Aden asked innocently. He still had his arm around her waist.

"_Why_?" she snapped. She waited until they were in the upper hall to shrug his arm off and move so Ginny was between them. Ginny didn't look happy to be there. "You're actually enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Oh, I bleeding am." Aden rolled his eyes. "It's absolute magic to have you tearing into me every time we're alone."

"Or, you know, with anyone who isn't Mum and Dad," Draco mumbled. Jackie threw a nasty look over her shoulder and Draco shut his mouth.

"Um," said Ginny. Draco could see her shoulders tense. "What are you going to do about Professor Pierce's lack of family, Aden?"

He blinked, turning raised eyebrows on Ginny. "What?"

"Her family," Ginny said, chewing her lip. "Won't your dad be suspicious, even if the wedding is called off, if he never meets anyone from her family?"

"Dumbledore lined up a couple of Aurors to play parents, if necessary," Aden told her. "That also gives the Ministry a way into Malfoy Manor to spy." He gave her shoulders a squeeze. "Worried?"

Ginny smiled a little at him. Draco glared at his brother's back. "No, I'm not worried."

"We did prepare for this, Miss Weasley." Jackie sighed, rubbing a hand across her eyes. "I expect we'll have to pull out our decoys at Narcissa's little party next week."

Draco groaned. "What's wrong with you?" Aden asked.

"Oh, not a bloody thing," Draco retorted. "Other than Mum trotting out eight or ten girls for me to marry. Hope Pansy gets out of it again or we're going to have to put a real show."

Ginny giggled. He glared at her. "Sod right off, Weasley, Pansy's my friend."

"Is she?" Ginny put her hand over her mouth. For some reason, she looked up at Aden. He winked at her and another giggle escaped her hand.

"Good thing I'm getting married," Aden said. "Otherwise, it would be me and Parkinson. Spare me."

"About you being married and all," Jackie growled as they rounded a corner that led to their respective bedrooms. "You _won't_ be, Malfoy."

Ginny backed quickly out from between them as the professor rounded on Aden.

Aden looked surprised.

"Of course we will," he said finally, grinning at her. "We're in _looooove_, Jackie."

"Oh, for – " and Jackie looked like she might slap him. "It's a charade, Malfoy. It's never going to happen."

"Sorry I'm so hideously offensive to you, madam," Aden muttered, grin curling into a grimace. "You could do worse than a rich heir, you know."

"A rich heir whose father worships the devil and whose entire family will descend upon me with wands a-blazing if they get even a hint I'm not who I'm supposed to be!" Jackie snapped, massaging her temples. "I really don't need your cheek, Malfoy."

"You sure?" he asked, brightening mischievously.

"I'm very tired!" Ginny said so suddenly and loudly that Draco jumped. "Good night." She turned quickly and walked away.

"Um, me too?" Draco managed.

"Don't you try anything, Malfoy," came Jackie's usual invective.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered.

"You work with teenagers and yet you know so little about them," he heard Aden say, amusement back in his voice. "The more you bring it up, the more likely they'll be shagging like rabbits by week's end. You're putting the idea in their heads, Jack."

"I assure you, Malfoy, it's already occurred to your brother," Jackie said. "I know enough about teenage boys to be sure of that. And Miss Weasley isn't an innocent little schoolgirl, according to school gossip."

"Gossip, eh?" Aden sounded gleeful. "Do tell."

Draco slammed his bedroom door and leaned back against it to stop himself eavesdropping. Ginny, _not_ an innocent schoolgirl? How many blokes could she possibly have gone through? She was only sixteen.

"Malfoy, you okay?"

Ginny was curled up in the armchair with _A History of Magic_ propped open on her knees.

"Fine!" he ground out.

"Oh, that I believe," Ginny mumbled, her eyes wide as she watched him stalk to his desk and throw himself into the chair.

"You know what I don't believe," Draco said before he could stop himself, "all the rumors about you and blokes at Hogwarts."

"What rumors?" she demanded.

"What rumors indeed," Draco said with a sneer, turning back to his work.

"What the hell are you on about?" she demanded. "There shouldn't be any rumors. There's nothing to gossip about, Malfoy."

"How many blokes then, Weasley?" He wouldn't look at her when he asked. Somehow, he couldn't stand it if she saw his reaction.

"That's my bloody business, isn't it?" she snapped, her voice trembling.

"Oh, I don't know." Draco knew he was on one of those warpaths from which he really should turn back before he was hit or cursed, but he just couldn't stop. "Seems like it might be a lot of people's business. Anyway, you're sharing my bed so I reckon I've a right to know."

He didn't turn until he heard the door to the loo slam and lock. He slumped back in his chair and glowered at the ceiling.

**)SOMETIMES(**

It was passed midnight when Draco was jolted awake. For a moment, he couldn't tell exactly what it was that had awoken him, but after a moment, he saw that it was the handle on the bedroom door jiggling. He glanced quickly around. Ginny was sleeping on the couch, curled into a tiny ball under the blankets she had stolen from Draco's bed while he was in the shower. She didn't wake but turned onto her back, moaning a little. The shaft of moonlight illuminated her face and Draco saw tears glittering on her cheeks.

Grabbing his wand from his nightstand and ignoring the lurch in his chest, he turned his attention to the door.

Aden came creeping into the room. He looked carefully around, his eyes coming to rest on his brother.

"What're you doing?" Draco hissed, lowering his wand.

"Sorry to bother you," Aden whispered, still sweeping the room with a sharp gaze. "Don't suppose you've seen Jackie, have you?"

"Not since we said goodnight earlier," Draco returned. "Why?"

"I can't find her," Aden said tersely. "I've been all over the bleeding manor and she's not anywhere in it. Even the elves don't know where she is."

"Aden?" Ginny mumbled, her tousled head rising a few inches off the sofa. "What's wrong?" She fumbled on the floor and Draco realized she was looking for her wand.

"Nothing, Gin," Aden assured her. He went and sat on the edge of the couch. "Go back to sleep."

"Jackie's gone?" she asked, but she relaxed back into the cushions again.

"Not to worry," Aden said, running a hand over her hair. "We'll find her. Sleep now."

"Don't … patronize me, Malfoy," but her words trailed off and soon she was breathing deeply again.

"What'd you make her cry for?" Aden asked, staring at Draco across the room.

"I didn't," he snapped.

"She's your guest, Draco," Aden said firmly. "And I thought you fancied her."

"Shut up," Draco hissed, glaring at the wall.

"Come on, mate, don't be like that." Aden stood. "I've got to find Jackie."

"I'll help," Draco offered grudgingly, letting out a long breath. He owed it to his brother for not taking the piss about Ginny or lecturing him about her. He did that sometimes and it was dead annoying.

"I just can't imagine where she's gone." Aden sat down at the end of Draco's bed and leaned against one of the bedposts.

"Floo?" Draco wondered.

"Why leave? Why not tell me where she's going?"

Draco stared. His brother's forehead was wrinkled and he kept running a hand through his pale hair, which was standing up all over his head now.

"Aden," Draco said slowly, "could you have scared her off? I mean, all that stuff about the wedding …"

"Drake, you remember when Dad sent me off to Durmstrang?" Aden said suddenly.

"I – kind of," Draco said, confused.

"I loved it there," Aden told him. "I mean, the Dark Arts stuff scared me, I won't lie, but the competition and the impressive masters and Viktor Krum. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven." He sighed. "And then Jackie turned up out of nowhere my third year. She hated Dark Arts, even then, and she let everyone know it. She was always in detention – and, Drake, our Durmstrang detentions make your stints with Professor Snape look like happy adventures at the seaside." He shook his head. "Jackie never gave up. She never stopped saying that learning Dark Arts implicated all of us, made us all abusers of magic that shouldn't be abused. She never stopped standing up for what she thought was right. She was the bravest person I'd ever seen. She's the reason I'm not blindly following Dad into his Dark Arts mania. She sorted me out, whether she knew it or not." He pinned Draco with a look. "Someone with that kind of backbone doesn't just run off."

"Aden."

They glanced at the couch. Ginny was sitting up, pulling on her house boots. "I'll go looking. No one can see me. It wouldn't be a risk."

"Absolutely not!" Aden shook his head. "No one can see you but that doesn't stop you be susceptible to my father's spells and curses. You don't know the wards or where not to go."

"I'm willing to risk it."

"I'm not." Aden smiled at her. "Brave girl. Bet you give your brothers a scare every couple weeks or so."

"I have a reputation to maintain." But Ginny smiled a little as she sat down and pulled off her boots. "And I'll tell you what I tell them. Don't underestimate me."

"I wouldn't dare."

Draco didn't see why she was smiling at Aden like that but when she looked at Draco her face went funny and empty.

"I'll go search the house again," Aden decided, frown returning. "Draco, will you go sit in my room just in case – "

"Aden." Ginny's head was on one side. She stood and moved toward the window. "What's the sound?"

Aden got up and went to join her. He paused, frowning. Then Draco heard it, too.

Music.

Aden's wand appeared in his hand and he nudged Ginny behind him. She pulled her wand out of her pyjama pocket and crept behind him to the window. Draco picked his wand up off the nightstand and went to join them.

When Aden had reached the window, he held out a hand, gesturing for them to stop. He dropped to his knees and shuffled to the window, pulling himself up just high enough to see out. Draco was about to laugh – his brother looked a little stupid scuttling around – when Aden swore.

Draco glanced at Ginny and then two of them crawled to Aden's side as fast as they could.

Draco peered over the windowsill and his breath caught in his throat. Ginny gasped.

Narcissa's rose garden glowed in moonlight that shown too brightly. Every flower twinkled in a mesmerizing synchronized throb, as though a million individual drops of water coated each petal. The music Ginny had first heard – sweet and soft, like a lover's whisper – drifted up with the glowing garden.

It took Draco a minute to see Jackie. She stood alone in the middle of the garden, amid Narcissa's prize roses. Her back was to the house. Her golden hair billowed around her in a cloud that throbbed in time to the glittering flowers. The red of her dressing gown seemed too bright, like blood from a new cut dripping off her tall frame.

Draco didn't realize he was climbing up toward the open window until a rough hand yanked him to the ground. The same hand slammed and bolted the window.

Draco found himself sprawled on the floor beside Ginny, who was blinking slowly, as though she'd been stunned and someone had just performed the counter curse. They glanced at each other, and then at Aden. His wand trembled in his clenched fist and he sat with his back against the wall.

"Damn," he whispered, staring not at but through them. "Oh, Jackie …"

"Aden, what _happened_?" Ginny whispered, staring at him with wide eyes.

"What was that?" Draco demanded.

"She's - she's a dryad," Aden murmured. "How could I not know … ?" He trailed off, eyes still on the far wall.

"A what?" Ginny asked.

"A dark creature," Aden said distantly. His eyes sharpened and he raised himself high enough to see out the window. He ducked hastily down a moment later. "I don't understand how she hid this for so long …" He shook his head, pressing the heel of his hand against his forehead. "How the hell did I not know about this? Honestly, call myself smart!"

"But what do they do?" Draco asked urgently. "Aden, how is she supposed to protect Weasley if she's a bloody monster?"

"It's only once a month," Aden said. "Just like – " He glanced at Ginny, frowned and said, "Like other things women go through. They're tied to the lunar cycle, like werewolves. Female dryads are the strongest, by far. The males are sort of there to … amuse them."

Ginny frowned and then went so red Draco could see her in the dark. "That makes sense," she said, not looking at either of them. "Women's magical abilities shift a little bit based on the lunar cycle."

"But I don't understand how I've never heard of a dryad," Draco cut in.

"The ministry doesn't know where to classify them so they aren't studied in many magical schools," Aden told him. "Because of the … sexuality inherent to their skills, most parents don't want their children knowing about dryads."

"Are you born a dryad?" Ginny asked.

"No." Aden gave her a long look. "You're seduced."

"Excuse me?" Ginny was practically glowing red now.

"To turn a human into a dryad, a female dryad has to seduce that person," Aden said slowly.

"What, shag them?" Draco wrinkled his nose.

"Not necessarily," Aden said. He paused, glancing at Ginny. "Seduction means different things to different people. It's complicated," he said, shaking his head. "The point is what a human does as a dryad."

"What?" Ginny's color faded with her voice.

"They seduce humans and they kill them," Aden said quietly. "They only turn a few of their victims. The ones they don't turn … they consume."

Ginny made a faint sound in her throat. "How long will Jackie be like this?"

"Just one night." Aden raked a hand through his hair. "Normally, she would seek out her kind and feed with them for a week or so, but I know there aren't any dryads near the manor. Finding them would take her too long. She'll wake up tomorrow … recovered." He chewed his lip. "Until next month."

"But she never missed a day of classes back at school," Ginny argued. "And I bet there were loads of dryads living in the Forbidden Forest - it's this forest next to the school that's stuffed with dark beings."

"There are potions that can make the condition manageable," Aden told her, eyes distant again. "I don't know why she wouldn't have taken one tonight, in fact. She knew this was going to happen …"

"So I'm guessing," Ginny said, her voice small, "that we have a problem?"

"A big one," Aden said, his voice hollow.

This time, Ginny didn't look at Aden. She looked up at Draco. He looked helplessly back.

What were they going to do?

**)SOMETIMES(**

_TBC_


End file.
